So, my first meeting was with the social workers. There were two of them. One was new and being trained.

The vibe in the room didn’t necessarily seem right from the moment they walked in. I kept trying to cut the tension. (It was so thick you needed more than a knife – you needed a at least a chainsaw!)

I’d quip things like “hmmm, you sure are writing down a lot.” I was trying to be funny! I said things with a smile and maybe even a little lilt.

But everything was so freaking serious! The more established social worker would say something back like “Does that bother you? Why don’t you want us taking notes about you.” It was like “Geez. Can nothing be fun in this room?”

As I said before, it was SO not my previous hospital experience. All I’d ever known from a hospital was a place where we could laugh and dance to Thriller. Not here!

Now, the social workers were explaining how incredibly important it was to have a support system and people to look after you. I was a little like “yeah, sure.” But I went along with what they wanted.

They asked who’d be taking care of me. I said my amazing friend Emily volunteered to let me stay with her. She’s one of the most caring people I know. She’s a certified EMT. She’s one of my closest friends. Why not stay with her?

Another angle. It may have been a rough day, but at least I got to feel like a tiny adorable girl in a giant’s house! (These chairs were bigger than some New York apartments I’ve seen. 😉

But the social workers gave me grief about that. “Don’t your parents live here?” Yes, they do. “Why don’t you want to stay with them?”

Can we just stop for a second to ponder why this was even a real question. I’m not 17 years old. If I come back to the town where I went to high school and stay with a friend instead of my parents, is this really so much cause for alarm?

But whatever. People are certainly allowed to ask whatever questions they want. So, I explain that sometimes parents care so much about you that it’s actually a little stressful. My parents were so worried about my health with heart stuff that I didn’t want them around all the time.

They were more worried about me than I was. It invites too much worry about placating somebody else when you need to focus on yourself.

Plus, I adore Emily! And she’s a medical professional! It would only make sense to be in her care if she is oh so sweetly offering.

The social worker didn’t love this. Somewhere in the conversation, some real push-back started happening. And this is where we’ll pick up on Wednesday.